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BY 


WILLIAM LEE POPHAM 

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Copyright 1910 


O' 

BY 

WILLIAM LEE POPHAM 




THE AUTHOR’S OTHER BOOKS. 


“Poems of Truth, Love and Power.” 
“Silver Gems in Seas of Gold.” 

“Nut Shells of Truth.” 

“Love’s Rainbow Dream.” 

“The Valley of Love.” 

“A Tramp’s Love.” 

“The Village by the Sea.” 























£>t)e SParet) to 2KXtin 


BY 

William Lee Popham 


It was an autumn afternoon in 
Pleasure Valley, Ohio, which found 
a bunch of jolly girls at the home of 
Gladys Rexall, who was a charming 
little creature of twenty singing 
summers. For an hour the piano 
keys had been chased by slender 
hands and love songs had been 
echoed where the rippling waves of 
laughter overflowed their banks to 
caress the lea of joy. Mrs. Rexall 
was visiting her oldest sister and 
the Rexall home was now a gay 
scene. 

“The afternoon is made to order, 
girls,” laughed Gladys, “and the 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


old folks will be absent till late 
tea.” 

“It’s fine and dandy” shouted a 
quartet of female voices. 

1 ‘ I wish the boys were here ’ ’ said 
a blond of sixteen. 

Then the river of laughter over- 
flowed its banks. 

“Clara has boy on her brain,” 
chuckled a voice from the corner. 

“It’s better to have boy on the 
brain than cob-webs,” retorted 
Clara with a rebuking laugh. 

“Let us rejoice that we are 
alone,” said the girl at the piano. 

“Amen,” shouted mischievous 
Ruth. 

“This is no prayer-meeting,” 
said a jolly one. 

With this remark, a bunch of 
smiles chased each other over fair 
faces and again song floated in the 
parlor air. 


6 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


“Listen! the gate slammed,” in- 
terrupted one of the girls. 

A young man threw a card into 
the room from the veranda step. 

‘ ‘ Hello ! Raymond, ’ ’ shouted the 
girls in one voice. “Raymond has 
a position of passing bills,” laughed 
one blue-eyed miss. The crowd 
laughed. 

“Yes,” said the young man, “the 
opera manager said the kids might 
give the bills out in one big bunch 
and that I had better take the job.” 

“It’s too true,” responded a girl; 
“the last show we had, I found a 
big bunch in the branch where we 
went to gather moss.” 

“Well, good bye, girls,” shouted 
Raymond, as he closed the gate. 

“Wait and tell us what’s to be at 
the opera house tonight,” cooed a 
gentle voice. 

“Look at the card” said Ray- 
7 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


mond, “this evening is the poet’s 
night, ’ ’ as he briskly walked away. 

The girls made a rush for the 
card which had been thrown to the 
parlor corner. Mildred snatched 
the card first and being taller than 
the others, held it high over their 
heads. “Stop pulling,’’ shouted 
she, “and I’ll read it to the crowd.” 

In a half-silly, dramatic voice, 
Mildred read the following in their 
hearing : 

Poet’s Recital at Opera House. 

Tonight at 8 o’clock, Mr. Lincoln 
Burton, the poet, will give an orig- 
inal recital at the opera house. The 
management will donate the profits 
to the Methodist Orphan’s Home. 
A high classed programme and a 
good time promised to all lovers of 
wit and wisdom. 

Popular prices, everybody in- 
vited. 


8 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


“Oh ! girls, that’s the same fellow 
I met while visiting my aunt this 
summer,” exclaimed Gladys Rexall, 
excited. 

“Gladys has wheels in her head,” 
put in a jolly voice. 

“I know I did meet him,” said 
Gladys, “and he gave an entertain- 
ment at the college while I was 
there visiting.” 

“How came you to meet him?” 
asked the blonde, “and tell us all 
about your poetic acquaintance.” 

“Acquaintance,” puffed another 
voice, “she means she saw him.” 

“No, I mean that I was intro- 
duced to him by my uncle when he 
stepped from the stage,” responded 
Gladys. “My uncle was chairman 
of the arrangement committee and 
had heard him previous to his ap- 
pearance at the college. ’ ’ 


9 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


‘ ‘ Is he handsome ? ’ ’ smiled a pair 
of rosy lips. 

“You mean, is he unmarried,” 
joked another. 

“He is both,” responded Gladys 
with a brightened face. 

“Then you had better set your 
cap for him,” put in a gay voice. 

“It’s already set,” laughed 
Gladys. 

Then the river of laughter over- 
flowed its hanks. 

“Tell us all about it, Gladys,” 
said one of the girls. 

“Well, the girls all fell in love 
with his love-poems,” answered 
Gladys ; ‘ ‘ they were so cute. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Cute, ’ ’ laughed a voice. 

“Yes, I mean cute, jolly, or any 
thing you want to call it. ’ ’ 

“It” said the bunch of mischief, 
“I thought you said ‘them.’ How 
can you apply ‘it’ to plural,” joked 
10 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


Mischief; “I thougth you said 
poems.” 

“Oh! you’re so proper” returned 
Gladys, “you must have eaten a 
grammar for dinner. ’ ’ 

The waves of laughter rippled. 

“Well, you haven’t told us about 
him,” reminded one. 

“They won’t let me,” said 
Gladys. 

“Now go ahead, Gladys,” said 
another voice, “and all of us will 
listen.” 

“There’s not much to tell,” re- 
sponded Gladys, “only he said he 
was happy to meet me, as he shook 
my hand.” 

‘ ‘ Do you reckon he was very hap- 
py?” interfered Mischief. 

The girls were bound to laugh 
again. 

“Now go ahead Gladys,” en- 
couraged a mild voice. 

11 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


“Well, he said he had fallen in 
love with my uncle and — ” 

“Are you sure he said your 
uncle?” joked Mischief. 

Mildred placed her hand over 
Mischief’s mouth and told Gladys 
to proceed. 

“Well,” she continued, “I told 
him that I hoped he would come to 
our town sometime during his trav- 
els and he said that he was likely 
to go anywhere, and that if he ever 
did visit my town, he would be glad 
to meet me again.” 

“I suppose you said ‘Amen,’ ” 
laughed Mischief again. 

The laughing river then bursted 
over the banks. 

“I must say that this is a silly 
crowd,” said a voice. 

“I’m glad it’s not like a funer- 
al, ’ ’ said Jolly. 

“Well, let’s all go to the opera 
12 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


house tonight and see Gladys ’ poet- 
ic acquaintance,” suggested Ma- 
rion. 

“I second the motion,” re- 
sponded Jolly. 

“Agreed,” joined the other 
voices. 

“Unanimous,” shouted Jolly, 
“but Gladys will have to promise 
the crowd to claim his acquaint- 
ance. ’ ’ 

“Of course I will!” returned 
Gladys. 

“She has the nerve all right,” 
said one. 

“It’s unfortunate that leap year 
is gone,” put in qnother. 

“Well here’s mother coming” 
sighed Gladys, “I guess that breaks 
up our foolishness.” 

“Yes, we must be going,” said 
several voices. 


13 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


“Oh, don’t!” said Gladys, sweet- 
ly- 

“Yes, but it’s time to go home 
and dress for the great occasion,” 
teased Dimples. 

“Well, good bye girls ; meet me at 
the opera house,” laughed Gladys, 
“and I will show you a trick.” 

“If you don’t stick up to your 
promise and shake that poet’s hand 
to-night, we will boycott you, ’ ’ said 
the jolly crowd to their hostess as 
they left in a bunch. 

“Never fear,” she responded. 


14 


Chapter II. 


At 8 o ’clock the curtain was 
raised and the scene was the poet 
surrounded by the arrangement 
committee on the stage before the 
audience of two thousand persons. 

The speaker was introduced in 
the most complimentary manner by 
the chairman and for nearly one 
hour and thirty minutes, Lincoln 
Burton swayed the audience from 
tears to smiles with his masterly 
poems. 

He was dressed in an evening suit 
and as he stood before the audience 
in the splendor of youthful man- 
hood, his soft blue eyes seemed to 
penetrate every heart and provoked 
great applause. 

Gladys Rexall sat there like a 
bird charmed by a snake. “I must 

15 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


shake his hand tonight, ’ ’ she said to 
herself, ‘ ‘ and tell him that I am the 
same girl whom he said he would be 
glad to meet again.” 

She trembled as though she had 
some great task before her to per- 
form. 

“Should I go, or should I not?” 
she asked herself a score of times. 
The other girls looked at her with 
smiles and none predicted that she 
would go. 

“It couldn’t be anything 
amiss,” she concluded, and with a 
strong resolution, she made up her 
mind to try. 

Just before he concluded he 
thanked the audience warmly for 
their splendid reception and invited 
“any one who may wish” to shake 
his hand after the conclusion. 

Gladys Eexall’s heart grew light- 
er and she felt encouraged to claim 
16 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


his acquaintance. Rapid thoughts 
chased thru her mind — for she knew 
that she must act quickly, as he was 
most ready to make his bow. She 
drew a card bearing her printed 
name from her opera bag and wrote 
across the back the following : 

‘ ‘ Mr. Lincoln Burton : 

Honored Sir: Your being a 
stranger in our town, please allow 
me the pleasure of inviting you to 
spend Wednesday afternoon at my 
home. 

Cordially, Gladys Rexall. 

3 p.m. 130 Norrelle Ave.” 

“Would it be proper to give this 
card after I recall our acquaint- 
ance?” she said to herself. “Any 
way, I shall try,” she decided. 

After he made his bow a hundred 
people of more rushed to shake his 
hand. Gladys quickly got in line. 
Her time soon came. As he shook 
her hand, she smiled and told him of 
17 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


their acquaintance which he politely 
acknowledged and remembered. 
He held her hand a little longer 
than the others and as she left, she 
presented the card without further 
words. He took it with a slight bow 
of the head and placed it in his coat 
pocket, where it remained unnoticed 
until morning. 

Lincoln Burton hastened to his 
room in a fashionable hotel and was 
soon in bed for slumber. 

But he lay awake some moments 
thinking of the evening’s splendid 
success and priding himself of the 
hundred dollars earned so easily 
while his thoughts stole away to the 
young lady who had smiled on him 
so sweetly and he could almost see 
her lovely form before him. 

Soon sweet slumber stole his 
thoughts and surrendered them to a 
poet’s dream. 


18 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


Some one else also lay awake — 
for Gladys Eexall was indeed happy 
over his polite recognition. But oh ! 
how anxious she was for the next 
afternoon and how she did wonder 
what he thought when he read her 
simple invitation. His pretty 
poems still rang in her anxious ears 
and she could not close her gray 
eyes in sleep. She lay on her bed 
building air castles that almost 
reached to heaven. The last thing 
she heard that night was the old 
clock count the long hours of twelve 
and her last thought was of Lincoln 
Burton. 


19 


Chapter III. 


’Twas on Wednesday morning 
when Lincoln Burton leaped from 
his cozy bed and the new sunlight 
greeted him through the eastern 
window. “Feeling fine and dan- 
dy, ’ ’ said the young poet to himself, 
“and ready for a morning walk be- 
fore breakfast. ’ ’ 

Ten minutes later found him 
dressed for the day and walking 
near the edge of town. 

“Breakfast time is at eight 
o’clock” thought he and looking at 
his watch, found that ’twas only 
seven. 

“One hour for an air bath and 
then a hearty breakfast.” 

The sky was clear overhead and 
nature smiled on every side. The 
eastern horizon looked like a great, 
20 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


new world bordered with blue and 
gold. 

“Where am I now!” thought the 
poet, then one-half mile from town. 
“Just a fine place to rest and 
think, ’ ’ said he, as he tumbled down 
across a green mound of soft lawn. 
“Well, I feel a poem knocking at the 
door of my heart,” he mused, “and 
I reckon I had better respond to its 
gentle call.” 

With this, he withdrew a fountain 
pen and small tablet from his pocket 
and began to write. 

“You are a poet’s friend,” mur- 
mured he, as he slapped the tablet 
between his hands. “And thou, oh, 
blooming flowers, velvet lawn and 
sparkling sunbeams are a poet’s 
chief capital.” Then sweet lines of 
sentiment of life, love and beauty 
soon filled the clear page. Then an- 
other and another, till he folded the 
21 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


leaves and placed them in his pock- 
et. ‘ ‘ What ’s this f ’ ’ said the man as 
a card fell from his shallow pocket 
upon the green. “ ‘Gladys Rexall.’ 
Ah, that’s the young lady who 
smiled upon me last evening!” 

Recalling how she looked in her 
gray frock which he remembered 
clearly, he thoughtlessly turned the 
card over. 

“What’s on the back?” whisp- 
ered the poet. 

The card, in feminine writing, 
read as follows: 

“Mr. Lincoln Burton, 

Honored Sir: Your being a 
stranger in our town, please allow 
me the pleasure of inviting you to 
spend Wednesday afternoon at my 
home. 

Cordially, Gladys Rexall. 

3 p.m. 130 Norrelle Ave.” 

22 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


“Quite singular” said the poet to 
himself as he read the card the sec- 
ond time. “I don’t know anything 
about her social standing” con- 
tinued his thoughts, “but can testi- 
fy as to her beautiful, gray eyes and 
shapely frock, which seemed to 
match, both in beauty and color. ’ ’ 

“Now for breakfast,” said he 
and an hour later found him read- 
ing in the hotel parlor. 

The bell boy tapped at the door 
and presented a caller’s card to Lin- 
coln Burton. 

“It’s the Methodist pastor,” said 
the boy. 

“Tell him to come up,” returned 
the poet. 

After a mutual greeting between 
the two men, they were seated alone. 

“I just came up to pay my re- 
spects,” smiled the genial pastor, 
‘ ‘ and to thank you, in behalf of my 
23 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


flock, for your masterly effort of 
last evening.” 

“I appreciate your gratitude and 
am happy that my humble efforts 
bloomed not to blush unseen,” 
smiled the ever ready poet. 

Conversation ran briefly on the 
events of the day and literature. 

Lincoln Burton again looked at 
the card, shyly. 

“Who is Gladys Rexall?” asked 
the poet, “and what are her accom- 
plishments?” 

Both men smiled. 

“Does she catch your eye?” 
laughed the pastor. 

The poet blushed. His eyes an- 
swered the question. 

‘ ‘ Why Gladys Rexall is one of my 
Sabbath school teachers,” answered 
the pastor, “and one of our most 
lovely young women. ’ ’ 

24 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


“Is that all you can say?” 
smiled the poet. 

“No, indeed!” returned the pas- 
tor, “I can tell you her whole his- 
tory if you want it.” 

“Her father is Major Rexall, our 
mayor, and a fine old gentleman. 
Her mother is a lady of culture and 
the young lady herself is the flower 
of the flock.” 

“A touch-me-not?” smiled the 
poet. 

“No, a forget-me-not” returned 
the pastor, “for once one sees her 
great, soft, gray eyes, he can for- 
get-her-not. ’ ’ 

“You are very clever,” said the 
poet to his smiling friend. 

“I am not thru yet,” said the 
pastor, “she does fancy needle 
work, helps her mother about the 
house, and last, but not least, she is 
an artist.” 


25 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


“Good!” laughed the poet, “she 
must be the flower of many flocks.” 

“That’s enough,” thought Bur- 
ton, after he was alone again. ‘ ‘ She 
is worthy of my acceptance of her 
invitation.” 

He called for a messenger, and 
giving him a neatly folded note 
sealed in a small envelope directed 
to Miss Kexall, instructed him to 
wait for an answer. 

Gladys sat at her home looking 
out the front window upon a bed of 
violets. 

She hardly knew her own 
thoughts, but rather felt like she 
had dreamed a strange dream. 

Her painting had turned to 
poetry. The air around her seemed 
filled with beautiful rhymes and she 
could almost see their fair young 
author. 

A messenger boy alighted from 
26 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


his wheel and opened the front gate. 
The girl’s heart beat in wild flut- 
ters. 

“Oh! is it for me?” she asked, 
greeting the boy at the door. 
“Yessum,” nodded the boy. 

Her soft fingers tore the whole 
end of the envelope at once. 

The note read as follows : 

“Miss Gladys Rexall, 

City. 

Dear Miss Rexall: Your invita- 
tion is gratefully accepted. I will 
call at 3 o ’clock for a pleasant drive. 
Very truly yours, 

Lincoln Burton. 

R. S. V. P.” 


27 


Chapter IV. 


At 2 :45 p. m. Lincoln Burton 
stepped from the hotel driveway in- 
to a buggy, which was soon off at 
rapid speed. In the meanwhile 
Gladys waited in the parlor, too 
glad to express her thoughts, but 0, 
so happy ! 

“Heaven itself was smiling its 
aid and approval,” she thought. 

“You are very prompt, Mr. Bur- 
ton,” she said sweetly, as she 
greeted him at the door. 

“Yes,” said the poet, “and a 
beautiful afternoon it is for driv- 
ing. ’ ’ 

They both were seated in the cozy 
parlor and they talked most like old 
acquaintances. 

‘ ‘ These are beautiful paintings 
which adorn your wall,” said Bur- 
ton. 


28 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


“ Thank you,” returned Gladys, 
with blushing pride. 

4 i It must have been a skilled hand 
that painted them, especially this 
landscape,” said he, as he pointed 
to the largest picture. 

“Probably not,” smiled Gladys, 
for my hand did it. ” 

“Hearty congratulations,” said 
the poet, with an earnest gesture. 

“I honor your decision,” re- 
turned Gladys. 

Here the conversation ceased, as 
Major and Mrs. Bexall entered the 
parlor, to whom Gladys introduced 
her new caller. Things went off 
most pleasantly and soon they were 
off for the drive. 

The spirited horse glided over the 
road like a scared deer and the red 
wheels glittered a sparkling red. 

He looked into her face and read 
in its smiles a story of joy. 

29 



SHE DARED TO WIN 


The rays of sunlight lighted her 
lovely figure while a rosy color 
flushed her lily face. 

She laughed and chatted so pleas- 
antly that the man felt a thrill of 
optimistic sentiment pass through 
his sensitive nerves. 

What a ride it was! How she 
enjoyed it all! Her cheeks looked 
sweeter to him than the beautiful 
roses she had painted in the parlor 
which he admired. The buggy 
glided faster over the smooth, white 
road, leaving the city limits far be- 
hind them. Like a bird it flew past 
the vine-clad fields and meadows, 
past grand forests, cool summer- 
cottages, large and small villages 
and hamlets, shining ponds sur- 
rounded by maples, and the poor 
huts of farm laborers. 

His soft blue eyes told her with- 
out words, of his pleasure, and oc- 
30 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


casionally lie would make a little 
rhyme of the scenery. Farther and 
farther they went and it seemed 
to her like a wonderful, continuous 
dream from which she feared to be 
awakened. 

It was past time for tea when the 
young couple drove up to Major 
Rexall’s home. 

“No, thanks, I shall not go in, 
Miss Rexall,” said the young man 
tenderly, “ it is rather late and I am 
engaged to dine with friends at the 
hotel at seven . 9 9 

After mutual expressions of ap- 
preciation of each other’s company, 
Lincoln Burton left for the hotel to 
dine with admiring friends. 

Everything about the dining 
room looked extraordinarily beauti- 
ful. A bright red carpet ran from 
the wide marble staircase to the 
entrance which showed rare flowers 
31 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


in urns on each side. The stair case 
and entrance halls were richly dec- 
orated with garlands of foliage and 
ferns, tall palms and statues stood 
everywhere and the elaborate inte- 
rior was sparkling with hundreds of 
oddly shaped electric lights. 

The dining room was indeed a 
scene of splendor, where the poet 
and a hundred others sat at the long 
table. 

Beautiful women sat like artists’ 
models while posing for celebrated 
paintings. 

The music filled the big hall with 
rare melody. Wave after wave 
pealed forth and when the music 
ceased, the toast-master arose, 
looked over the brilliantly lighted 
table and said: “Ladies and gentle- 
men, we have the honor to recognize 
Mr. Lincoln Burton, the poet, in our 
midst, whose response we invite to 
32 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


my toast, the ‘Roses of the 
South.’ ” 

Clapping hands bespoke glad tid- 
ings of joyful anticipation, and with 
a modest bow, Lincoln Burton arose 
to acknowledge the honor thus ac- 
corded him. 

The poet had not been informed 
of his subject until that very in- 
stant, but with his ever ready store- 
house of poetic sentiment, he said 
extemporaneously, in part : 

I. 

Here’s to all at this affair, 

Where fragrance scents the air : 

The sweet smelling roses, 

The fine Roman noses, 

And every low-neck, 

And pearls by the peck. 

II. 

Here’s to the diamond ring — 

And the ladies who shall sing, 

33 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


In a mocking-bird flutter — 

The soft notes to utter — 

Our fancy to charm, 

And naught to alarm. 

III. 

Here’s to rosy lips, 

And soft finger-tips ; 

Your string of beads, 

And all your needs ; 

But the “Roses of the South’’ 

Are on the maiden’s mouth. 

Great applause filled the hall 
which rang thru all the main door- 
ways. 

They tried to call Lincoln Burton 
to his feet again, but his blue eyes 
only sparkled a refusal. 

The whole evening passed like a 
charm of unbroken harmony. 

The toast-master presented Lin- 
coln Burton a glass of wine, saying, 
“Ladies and Gentlemen, our dis- 
34 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


tinguished guest will now respond 
to my toast on ‘Sparkling Wine.’ ” 
With fire in his eye, the poet took 
a glass of pure clear water from the 
table and holding it high, broke the 
silence with the following toast 
which came to him as an extempor- 
aneous flash : 

Some toast to whiskey, 

Others to wine ; 

Some to brandy, 

But none for mine. 

But here’s to water 
From Nature’s breast — 

The purest beverage 
Of all the rest. 

In spite of the disapproval which 
first prevailed, Lincoln Burton sat 
down again amid great applause. 

Lincoln Burton was a real gentle- 
man. No liquor, falsehoods, pro- 
fanity or tobacco ever polluted his 
35 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


rosy lips, and his character was 
spotless. 

Although, sometimes he moved in 
the circle which we call “society,” 
he yielded not to its cruel tempta- 
tions. While he did not feel at 
home, so to speak, in such a place, 
he was one who could glisten with 
the brightest. 

The rest of the evening passed 
like a happy dream and the banquet 
hall was soon deserted; then shad- 
ows and stillness only marked the 
place where gaiety in all her robes, 
colors, song and music had reigned 
a few hours ago. 

Lincoln Burton left on the early 
morning train for New York City 
to fill a lyceum engagement. 


36 


Chapter V. 


It was night and nearly bed time 
when Gladys Eexall sat in her cozy 
little home conversing with her 
father and mother. 

“I wonder how Mr. Burton is to- 
night 1 ’ ’ said the mother, nodding to 
her daughter. Gladys only smiled. 

Mayor and Mrs. Rexall were 
much interested in the acquaintance 
between their only unmarried 
daughter and the young poet, and 
did not try to conceal it from 
Gladys. 

But no less was the girl’s inter- 
est, for her young heart had been 
aflame with love since she shook his 
hand at the recital. She was now 
conscious of but one purpose, and 
that to ‘ ‘ win him. ’ ’ 

Gladys refused to talk much of 
her friend but she told Mayor and 
37 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


Mrs. Eexall that they had agreed to 
correspond. 

Tomorrow night the girls are 
coming and Gladys almost dreaded 
their visit. 

The next night was another epoch 
in Gladys’ life for those same girls 
who came the afternoon which pre- 
ceded her meeting with the poet, 
were there. 

Everybody was jolly and music, 
songs, jokes, and laughter monopo- 
lized most of the evening. 

The girls carried Gladys high 
about her poet and joked till she al- 
most cried. It was far from a joke 
to Gladys for the very thought 
swelled her heart. 

Gladys did not tell even her 
chums her hope of correspondence 
with Lincoln Burton — for her mot- 
to was “slow and careful.” 

But the girls still teased. 

38 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


“Gladys has more nerve than a 
brass monkey, ” shouted a jolly girl, 
“I wouldn’t have chanced giving 
him an invitation for a whole bag of 
money.” 

“He could have done nothing 
more than refuse,” said Gladys. 

“That’s right,” put in a sympa- 
thizing voice. 

“Well, I hope Gladys will catch 
him,” joked a mischievous one. 

The girls all laughed. 

“Then she would be such an in- 
spiration to a poet,” said Marion. 
“He could look into her gray eyes 
and write pictures of heaven.” 

With this remark the river of 
laughter completely overflowed its 
silver banks. 

“Let’s all resolve here and now,” 
said one of the gayest of the bunch, 
“to not marry till we get a poetic 
husband. ’ ’ 


39 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


“What a bunch of spinsters this 
would be,” responded a laughing 
voice. 

“Why, there are enough poets in 
the United States for every one of 
us,” said Miss Mischief. 

“Yes, but nearly all poets are 
married,” returned Gladys. The 
speaker did not mean this for a joke 
deep down in her own heart, but all 
the girls giggled just the same. 

“Don’t say what you would or 
would not do,” said a sensible girl, 
1 1 for every one of us might marry a 
laboring man — and he might make 
us happy. ’ ’ 

“Not for me,” said a voice flip- 
pantly. ‘ ‘ I am going to have a hus- 
band who can afford to let me travel 
and see the world, or die an old 
maid.” 

“You had better call yourself an 
old maid now,” said another one, 
40 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


‘ ‘ for twenty-four wives out of every 
twenty-fifth number have to stay at 
home.” 

“Girls, can you not talk about 
anything except matrimony 1 ’ ’ 
shouted Gladys. 

In a few moments lunch was 
served and the music and laughter 
still floated till the girls started for 
home. Soon Gladys Rexall lay on 
her pillow thinking of what the fu- 
ture might bring and building huge 
air-castles on the banks of hope. 


41 


Chapter VI. 


Lincoln Burton filled his lecture 
engagement at New York City with 
pleasing success and ere he left the 
city, paid a pleasant visit to his old 
sweetheart, Miss Millicent Mor- 
daux, the only daughter of a French 
millionaire cologne manufacturer. 

Millicent was a blue-eyed society 
belle who had many admirers; and 
the gayety of New York life was her 
heart’s desire. Chief est of her 
elaborate library, she prized Lin- 
coln Burton’s series of books — es- 
pecially his volumes of poetry. 

On several occasions Lincoln Bur- 
ton had been the guest of honor at 
social functions given at the Mor- 
daux mansion — but never without 
the usual display of wine and the 
ballroom. 


42 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


The poet’s early career was made 
famous in society circles in which he 
was among the social leaders; but 
in later years of touring the world 
he drifted away from former de- 
sires and craved “the simple life.” 

The more he mingled with gen- 
eral humanity the greater became 
his simplicity, and his later volumes 
of poetry marked the change. 

The poet’s last call on Millicent 
was “a private occasion” according 
to Mr. Burton’s request; for he de- 
tested the “wine and ballroom” 
which had been a part of his former 
receptions. 

The poet said nothing to Millicent 
of his new gray-eyed Gladys in 
Pleasure Valley; but nevertheless 
she knew of “their drive” together 
through the newspapers. After the 
poet clasped Millicent ’s slender 
warm hand in his farewell greeting, 
43 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


a strange feeling possessed her that 
his love was on the wane. 

Although she hoped that at the 
end of his lecture tour, he would 
come back to New York to enjoy the 
luxuries of city life — and perhaps 
to enjoy, as of old, the brilliant so- 
cial functions given in his honor at 
her mansion home. 


44 


Chapter VII. 


Two weeks later, Lincoln Burton 
redeemed liis promise and wrote a 
pretty, friendly letter to liis gray- 
eyed girl, as he called her. 

Of all girls in the world, Gladys 
Rexall was the happiest. She an- 
swered with the greatest care and it 
became almost a weekly occurrence 
to receive and write a letter to her 
poet friend. 

Many little gems of poetry 
sparkled throughout his letters and 
Gladys prized each verse most high- 

ly- 

Never did she cease to try to win 
him, yet she corresponded six 
months without reading from his 
letters that he loved her. She 
searched to find just one such sen- 
tence in all his letters, but only in 
vain. 


45 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


Yet his letters were beautiful and 
sweet, and Gladys often thought 
that she could see love between .the 
lines. And it was there, too. 

For a whole month she had not 
received from him a single letter. 
She had written last, but hoping 
that it might have been lost thru 
the mails she dared to write him an- 
other which concluded with the fol- 
lowing words : 

“Mr. Burton, how long it is since 
I received your last letter! I long 
to read your beautiful, sweet words 
of greeting and am consoling myself 
that our letters have been lost thru 
the mail. Won’t you write and 
make your Gladys happy 1 ?” 

True enough, the letters had been 
misplaced in the mail hut Lincoln 
Burton received this one and it 
touched his great true heart. “Poor 
little girl,” he murmured, “I can’t 

46 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


stand to hurt her and why should I 
longer conceal my love when I know 
she really returns it ? ” 

Many times he thought this, and 
now his big heart must melt its con- 
ceit and tell her of his love. He 
could almost see her large gray 
eyes, red plump lips and blushing 
rosy cheeks as he turned these 
thoughts over in his master mind. 

He sat down and wrote her a long- 
sweet letter — a real love letter — and 
concluded with these words : 

“Little one, I’m so sorry that 
some of my letters have been lost 
and to pay up for lost time, I have 
written you a poem and dedicated it 
to your own sweet self. The name 
of your poem is: “Life’s Fairy 
Land,” and you are the gray-eyed 
fairy who inspired me to write it. 

Your own, Lincoln.” 


47 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


When Gladys received the poem 
she could hardly believe her own 
eyes and “supremest joy” would 
fall short to express her happy 
heart. 

The poem which now hangs over 
the piano in a golden frame in the 
Rexall parlor reads as follows : 
LIFE’S FAIRY LAND. 

By Lincoln Burton. 

Dedicated to 
Gladys Rexall. 

There's a land of bliss where flowers kiss 
Without the faintest blush — 

Where vine-plants hug in places snug 
On velvet’s softest plush. 

At sunset’s glow the lovers go 
To life’s own fairy land — 

With spirits gay at close of day 
To hold each other’s hand. 

There is a land of scenery grand 
’Mid ferns where lovers tread — 

Around the lake where white-caps break, 
Where roses bloom and spread. 

The man discovers the land of lovers 
And smiles down from the moon; 

<The starlets wink while lovers think 
Of happy nights in June. 

48 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


Gladys dear, I long to hear 

Your voice and yours alone — 

In the land of bliss where flowers kiss 
When day-birds all have flnown. 

Pm thinking now of your lily-brow 
And the cheeks your blushes cover; 
Your words inspire my thoughts to fire 
And believe me dear, your lover. 


49 


Chapter VIII. 


It was a pale morning when Milli- 
cent sat in the elaborate library in 
her mansion home. 

Her letters from Lincoln Burton 
were seldom ; and in her shrewdness 
she sat planning to put an end to the 
poet’s courtship with Gladys Bex- 
all. In her hand she held a small 
booklet advertising “Pleasure Val- 
ley” as a beautiful resort and its 
many advantages for pleasure seek- 
ers were well described by “word- 
painting” and pictures. The resort 
was truly named, for “Pleasure 
Valley” was a dimple in nature’s 
cheek and bordered by shady groves 
and babbling brooks. But little did 
Millicent care for the advantages of 
pleasure there ; although had not it 
been the home of her rival, she 
50 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


would have hailed the advertise- 
ment with eagerness — for much of 
her time was spent in idle pleasure 
at famous resorts. 

She sat in an easy rocker but her 
heart was far from peace ; for amid 
tears she was planning to retain the 
poet’s love. 

“I can’t be satisfied in this miser- 
able place” she at last decided, 
“and I’m going to Pleasure Val- 
ley.” The old saying that “all is 
fair in love and war” whispered 
evil in her ear and her heart obeyed 
the impulse. “It will truly be 
‘Pleasure’ Valley to me,” she 
thought, “if I can devise some plan 
to prevent the correspondence be- 
tween the man I love and Gladys 
Rexall. ’ ’ 

Fast as the train could fly, she de- 
cided to go to Pleasure Valley — to 
stay as long as it took to form some 
51 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


kind of a successful plan — saying 
many times to herself, “All is fair 
in love and war,. ’ ’ ’ 


52 


Chapteb IX. 


Upon her arrival in Pleasure Val- 
ley Millicent engaged the best suite 
of rooms that money could buy and 
ere another week Millicent gave a 
reception and dinner to the leading 
young ladies of Pleasure Valley — 
whereby she made the acquaintance 
of Gladys Rexall who was one of a 
hundred guests. 

The reception was a brilliant suc- 
cess and soon Millicent became well 
known as the daughter of the New 
York millionaire cologne manufac- 
turer, and was very popular among 
“Pleasure Valley society.” 

Many young ladies in Pleasure 
Valley invited Millicent to their 
homes and she accepted invitations 
almost daily. Millicent especially 
took pains to accept invitations 
53 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


from Gladys Eexall and their ac- 
quaintance became most intimate. 
Gladys would often spend nights 
with Millicent at the hotel ; for, 
using her own words, she became 
“very lonesome without congenial 
company. ’ ’ 

They were daily seen together 
at the post office, and at length 
Millicent invited Gladys to share 
her mail box, saying “it would be 
more convenient and save time to 
get their mail at the same time” 
when they were together. 

To this, innocent Gladys con- 
sented, and several times when they 
would go together to the post office, 
Gladys would receive cards or let- 
ters from Lincoln Burton. Gladys 
was too noble to let any one read 
her “sacred letters” — however 
Millicent knew Lincoln Burton’s 
handwriting at the first glance, and 
54 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


scarcely could she hold her peace 
when Gladys would receive a let- 
ter from him. Not once did Milli- 
cent hint that she cared or even 
knew the poet, and Gladys was en- 
tirely innocent of their acquaint- 
ance. Millicent by much secret 
practice, learned to imitate the 
hand-writing of Gladys to perfec- 
tion. She even procured a box of 
the same kind of stationery Gladys 
used in corresponding with the 
poet. 


55 


Chapter X. 


After the morning mail Gladys 
sat very happily with Millicent in 
the excellent hotel parlor. 

Millicent sat with a newspaper 
partly before her face and Gladys 
didn’t know that she saw her glad 
smile as she read the sweet words 
of Lincoln Burton’s letter. 

“My dear Gladys,” began the 
letter, “I have been on the train 
several hours and at last I am 
where I can answer your excellent 
letter. Ere my lecture this even- 
ing, I am refreshing myself in the 
wildwood — in the sweet company of 
flowers. I have just seated myself 
upon a moss-covered rock by a 
babbling stream where minnows 
are playing in clear pools and 
where vines hug amid the boughs 
above the stream. If you were 
56 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


here, I would be the original Adam 
in the garden of Eden where human 
love was born. The mocking birds 
are warbling amid the blooming 
vines and the bees are kissing the 
opening flowers. 

“Were you in this beautiful dell 
to inspire me with your flashing 
eyes and matchless smile, I could 
write poems of nature while you sat 
at your easel to paint Nature’s 
beauty in many colors. But a 
poet’s imagination must suffice. 
Methinks the birds are singing thy 
song and the soft, southern breeze 
is whispering a sweet message of 
thine own wording. 

“The clear stream mirrors the 
floating clouds and in their magic 
colors I see the roses blooming on 
your cheeks and the gleam of color 
in your dreamy eyes. The forget- 
me-nots beside me tell that you can- 
57 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


not be forgotten and the red roses 
tell me that you are true as the 
blue in heaven’s sky. The lillies 
tell me of your virgin purity and 
the honeysuckles represent the fra- 
grance of your rosy lips. I enjoy 
the chautauqua lecture tours — for I 
have much time for walks with na- 
ture where I can write love poems 
and think of you. 

“Methink I could close my eyes 
and dream again my thoughts of 
thee in the solitude of my room last 
evening. 

A DREAM OF THE ONE I 
CAN’T FORGET. 

Last night while all was sleeping 
The dew had fallen wet — 

I fell asleep and dreamed 
Of the one I can’t forget. 
Somewhere within the border 
Of the shadowed night — 

Your eyes were like the stars 
That make the heavens bright. 

58 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


The deep, blue shade of evening 
Stretched across the land; 

And the sky was painted 
By thy cunning hand. 

The silver moon was shining 
Amid the clouded peaks ; 

The splendor of the flowers 
Were copied from your cheeks. 

The night’s enchanting songs 
In a whispering tone — 

Bade me lie and listen 
In my room alone. 

And thru the open window 
When the moon had set — 

Came in garments white 
The one I can’t forget. 

And standing in the beauty 
Of a lover’s smile — 

You waited there in silence 
To let me dream awhile. 

With open arms of welcome 
Where earth and heaven met — 
The happy dream was ended 
Of the one I can’t forget. 

Your loving dreamer, 

Lincoln Burton.” 

59 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


When Gladys fondly kissed the 
letter, Millicent could hardly con- 
ceal her jealous anger — but she still 
pretended to read the newspaper. 


60 


Chapter XI. 


The next day found Millicent in 
her room alone at the hotel. 

“I can not stand it longer” she 
thought as she seated herself at the 
writing desk. 

After a long time in thought she 
wrote the following letter to a sym- 
pathetic friend in her home city. 

“Dear Annetta: At last I have 
devised a scheme. Please write a 
typewritten post card to Gladys 
Rexall over the name of Lincoln 
Burton in exactly the following 
words — and mail same at once!” 

“Miss Gladys Rexall, 

Pleasure Valley, Ohio. 

My Dear Gladys: Don’t be dis- 
appointed by my infrequent letters, 
as I have suddenly decided to sail 
for Europe from New York to- 
61 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


night. Will write you when I reach 
land again. 

Lovingly, 

Your Lincoln. 
Excuse typewriting.” 


62 


Chapter XII. 

In a few days Gladys received 
the type-written letter supposedly 
from the poet and the scheme 
worked like a charm. 

Millicent shrewdly followed the 
poet’s whereabouts by the printed 
chautauqua program of his various 
dates which she secured to perfect 
her scheme. 

“Now I can steal the poet’s let- 
ters to Gladys” she decided, “with- 
out suspicion.” 

Each morning Millicent arose 
early and went to the post office ere 
Gladys ate breakfast. 

Soon she found one of the poet’s 
letters in her box which she hur- 
riedly took to her room and read 
it alone as follows : 


63 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


‘ ‘ My Dear Gladys : It seems like 
ages since yonr last letter. I fear 
you are ill. Dearest, I have been 
dreaming of the time when distance 
can not fence us apart. When I am 
tired of the world’s tour and fame 
has yielded her gold and travel has 
given me full satisfaction, and my 
books are sold on liberal royalty in 
every English speaking nation as 
they are now sold in my native land, 
and I tire of lecturing to the surg- 
ing crowds of humanity, I want to 
fly to a quiet sea-shore home with 
my happy mate and there abide to- 
gether in the sweetness of love, 
peace, and joy. I am dreaming of 
home-happiness where the beauti- 
ful live and shadows shall fade be- 
fore your sunny smile. 

“When my dream comes true, I 
will build a quiet home overlooking 
the sea — where the salt-breeze ever 
64 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


invigorating and balmy, will blow 
into our open window, and where 
sea-gulls and hundreds of strange 
birds will pass a-near and where 
ships will daily glide before our 
open door. 

“I want a sail-canoe, a motor- 
boat, and our own beach and boat 
house. 

“We can bathe together daily in 
the fresh waters and dream along 
the shore; gather queer shells, fish 
and live in the sweet company of 
flowers. 

“The orange trees will bear and 
bloom upon our plantation, vines 
climb above the doors and sweet 
honeysuckles hug the garden wall. 
I want birds to make our yard their 
home and eat from the green lawn. 
We’ll listen to their song and I’ll 
put rhyme to their music. We’ll 
want the visitation of our friends 


65 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


and the ‘old time’ drives, walks and 
talks close to nature’s heart. We’ll 
invite the wild mocking-birds to 
make our trees their welcome home. 

“And chief est of all, the ‘poet 
and artist’ will live together in the 
solitude of inspiration where the 
flowers of happiness are ever 
blooming. 

“This earth has a separate para- 
dise for mated lovers — beneath the 
fairest sky of heaven. Earth’s 
happiness blossomed when love was 
born — and since its beautiful birth 
amid the flowers of Eden, human 
hearts have felt its thrill and happy 
thousands live beneath its magic 
inspiration. Love is the twin of 
joy, the sister of song, the brother 
of contentment and the inventor of 
sweet dreams. Our love will be the 
beautiful wings with which we shall 
wing our flight to heaven. 

66 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


They who live in love undying 
Will never tire of toil and trying. 
All things else may fade and rot 
And pass away; but love will not. 

Dearest, I have a question to ask 
and may I not put the interrogation 
in the following poem? 

Our love was true when last we met, 
And hearts of love can not forget. 
Hence our hearts in love are tied; 
I’ll be the groom and you the bride. 

The sun may rise, the sun may set — 
But thee my dear, I can’t forget. 
Dear, our love is truly tried; 

Then will you be my happy bride ? ’ ’ 

When Millicent finished reading 
the foregoing letter of love and pro- 
posal from the poet to Gladys, she 
felt heart-sick, jealous and yet 
mean. But her one intention was 


67 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


to keep the letter from its rightful 
owner and even further devise 
means to stop their correspondence. 

“I think this will end it” Mil- 
licent thought, as she sat at her 
desk and wrote the following letter : 

“Dear Mr. Burton: Your very 
kind letter of proposal received and 
after a few hours of deliberation, 
I have to answer frankly and finally 
—No. 

“I love and have loved you only 
as a friend and I think as our 
friendship has assumed a more 
serious aspect on your part, that 
our correspondence must now cease 
permanently. 

“If you respect me, please grant 
this, my desire. 

“I leave Pleasure Valley tonight 
to start on an extensive tour I know 
68 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


not where — but somewhere where I 
may enjoy a life without loving and 
being loved. 

Cordially yours, 

Gladys Rexall.” 

Millicent wrote the foregoing let- 
ter in an exact imitation of Gladys’ 
handwriting and mailed it very 
carefully to Lincoln Burton ; then 
left Pleasure Valley immediately 
and went to her mansion home in 
New York City. 

After her arrival home Millicent 
tried several times in vain to get 
answers to her invitations to the 
poet — but never more did he an- 
swer her letters. 

Gladys still lives in her father’s 
home at Pleasure Valley; but her 
heart is broken, fearing that death 
has overtaken her poet lover in 
strange lands. 


69 


Chapter XIII. 


Two years later found Millicent 
lying at the point of death in her 
New York home. 

During this time she had lost the 
whereabouts of Lincoln Burton and 
even did not know whether he was 
dead or alive. Millicent ’s doctor 
had just stepped from the sick- 
room to the next room where her 
millionaire father sat in tears. 
“How’s my daughter now?” asked 
the father anxiously. 

The doctor shook his head, say- 
ing: “There is no chance for her 
recovery — and the end is but a few 
hours. She seems to be in great 
trouble about something” con- 
tinued the doctor, “and requests 
your presence.” 

The father quietly entered the 
70 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


sick girl’s room and found her life 
slowly ebbing away. 

“Do you feel prepared for heav- 
en?” asked the father tenderly as 
he placed his hand upon her fever- 
ish brow. “I do not!” was the 
prompt response and a look of de- 
spair clouded her face. 

“TVust Jesus, daughter,” 
pleaded the father, “and He will 
save you.” 

“Jesus can not save me till I 
right a grievous wrong that lays 
heavily on my soul,” was her sad 
response. 

“What wrong have you done?” 
asked the anxious father. 

“Go to my trunk and bring that 
letter addressed to Miss Gladys 
Rexall, Pleasure Valley, Ohio.” she 
responded, “and I’ll tell you the 
sin I am under.” 

The father found the letter and 
71 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


listened to her story in astonish- 
ment. 

“I can not ask God to save me 
with the sinless in heaven,” she 
said, “till you promise me to send 
Gladys the letter that is hers.” 
“I’ll have it expressed to her at 
once!” responded the father, and a 
servant answered his call — and an 
expressman was there in a few mo- 
ments to receive the express. Then 
the dying girl prayed to Jesus in 
whom she put her trust as she lifted 
her eyes toward Heaven. 

All who saw the peaceful smile 
on her pale, dead face knew that the 
forgiving Savior of sinners put it 
there. 


72 


Chapter XIV. 


When Gladys received the ex- 
press package containing Lincoln 
Burton’s beautiful letter of pro- 
posal, her long broken heart beat 
again with joy; for the very day the 
express came, she read in the paper 
that her lover was to lecture in Chi- 
cago that same week. Her true love 
had never changed; for “God is 
love,” and “Christ is the same yes- 
terday, today and forever.” 

Gladys wrote to the poet at once 
telling the whole story — concluding 
with the following words: 

“Dear Lincoln, I have been true 
these two long years and to-day I 
love you none the less. When you 
will have known the whole story of 
the unfortunate interference I know 
you will be the same true lover. 

73 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


“Therefore, I answer your ques- 
tion — Yes ! 

Please write at once. 

As ever your own, 

Gladys.” 


74 


Chapter XV. 


Lincoln Burton had just returned 
to the hotel from the lecture audi- 
torium when he opened Gladys’ let- 
ter. 

Heaven could be no sweeter than 
the answer which he had so anx- 
iously expected two years ago. 

Although somewhat fatigued 
from the evening’s lecture, he could 
not wait till morning to answer. 
Midnight found him still writing to 
the girl of his love and ere he slept 
he called a bell-boy who mailed the 
twenty-page letter on the “twelve- 
thirty night train.” 

“Truly,” said Burton to himself 
when he sank back into an easy 
chair in his room, “my dream will 
come true. ’ ’ 

His little sleep that beautiful 
75 


SHE DARED TO WIN 


night, was a dream of joy; for his 
fondest hope had blossomed. 

To-day when “the poet and his 
happy wife” tire of travel, they fly 
to their sea-side home where love’s 
flower grows to perfume the atmos- 
phere of a vine-clad home. 

The end. 


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